The Last One Standing
by MizzizzPurrrfekt
Summary: Both are trapped. Both want a way out. But only one can be left standing.
1. Prolouge

**THE LAST ONE STANDING**

A/N: This is my first attempt of an actual story. I won't post anything until I'm told that it's good so please review. Thanks! ~Alex~

**PROLOGUE  
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The night was, to an observer, picture perfect. The sky was dotted with specks of white light. The light was glittering and shining giving the impression that a million diamonds were scattered about the black velvet that was the nighttime sky. The trees were completely still and even the nighttime critters knew better than to disturb this masterpiece.

But an observer just sees the masterpiece at the captured moment. They wouldn't see what happen after the silence and beauty of the moment was broken. They would not have seen a retreating figure running for her life or the green and red jets of light trying to hit her unsuccessfully.

And of course the observer would not have seen the figure shooting her own jets of light at many cloaked figures. They would not have seen the girl slipping and tripping while trying to run. They also would not have seen this very same girl fall and trying to pick herself up in vain.

But if somehow the observer did see all of this, they would see the girl stand up and run on weakly, and finally disappear with a crack.

They would then see the other black figures curse and yell. Then, they too would disappear.

The masterpiece that was still standing a few moments was now barely recognizable. It was entrancing with its destructed beauty. Because that's what destruction was- beauty.

The diamonds were still lying on the midnight velvet but now they seemed taunting and if possible, brighter as if they were feeding on the battle that occurred but seconds ago. The trees were charred and burned beyond recognition. The ground was blasted into chunks and to a very picky person, strewn bodies were visible.

And the observer is left to wonder what has happen that created this new horribly beautiful painting and what happen to the mysterious figure.

Unless of course, that observer was a wizard who knew that the mysterious figure was in fact, a witch.

And, all that witch can wish for is to be the last one standing…


	2. Hermione's Predicament

**Hermione's Predicament**

**A/N: I'm not dead. Surprise! But I did get a new laptop. So now I can shorten the list of excuses to use for late posts. Damn. Anyways, the reason Dramione- Disney Style is on hold is because I'm in an angsty mood lately. So, I decided to give this story a shot. Please review! I live for those! ~Alex~**

**Disclaimer: I wish I could buy Draco. Then I'd buy him a Hermione. And I'd buy Ron and kill him slowly and painfully. ;} Sadly, I can't. All rights are the brilliant's Rowlings!**

Hermione Granger awoke like she always did. Tired, bloody, and with absolutely no idea of her whereabouts. The only difference today though, was the giant, bleeding gash running from her right hip to below the knee. It was bleeding profoundly, and she guessed that it was some Dark Curse that made the victim bleed to death.

"Strange," she thought, "I don't _feel _light-headed or woozy as one should with blood loss. I just feel fine. My legs a bit tingly, that's all. I wonder what curse this is…"

Here, she made a quick overview of all the Dark spells she knew- which was astoundingly quite long, and was not very surprised to realize that she never came across this certain spell.

"That's irony," the bleeding girl thought grimly, "I would probably know any other spell except this one."

And that was why, Hermione Granger laughed out loud. Because heaven only knows the last time she actually laughed and she needed it. And somehow, she found her predicament quite amusing. After a few minutes, she regained her senses and quickly closed her mouth.

"What would be quite amusing," she said (in her mind of course), "Was if I was captured by Death Eaters from which I am running away from. I wonder would they kill me at once or take me hostage. They would probably recognize me as Harry Potter's Mudblood and take me to Voldemort…"

While she was pondering this, she realized that her position was quite exposed and that she was a sitting duck. She tried to stand up and found that the injured side of her body was weighing her down. Involuntarily she cried out and fell- right on her leg!

"Oh. My. Goodness." She moaned. "Owww!"

And this is where Hermione's predicament really began. Her wand was nowhere to be found, she couldn't move and her leg was causing her a lot of pain.

The witch tried to shift her weight and flip on her back but found it impossible. The curse must have been very powerful indeed because every single twitch felt as if her leg was being mangled by a pack of ravenous lions.

For the second time that day, Hermione laughed. She was a Gryffindor- her own house animal eating her leg! That was pathetic and sad. And very painful.

She looked at her surroundings thoroughly for the first time. It appeared that she was on the edge in some small clearing in a forest. The forest appeared to be coniferous and very, very cold. She noticed that she was lying on a layer of pure white snow and that the clouds above her were looking heavier and more inclined to snow by the second.

Hermione groaned.

"O.K. I am either in Narnia or a very northern region. Russia maybe?" she thought desperately.

But try as she might, she could not decide exactly where she was. All she needed was to get up right now and try to find her wand. Hastily, she grabbed a tree root and pulled herself toward a large pine tree.

Taking a very deep breath, she slowly hoisted herself up, hissing at the ache that was spreading from her calves to her hip. Finally, she was shakily standing, leaning heavily on the thick tree trunk.

"Deep breath 'Mione. Deep breath. Here we go."

Ignoring the searing pain in her leg, she grasped the trunk and looked around the clearing, hoping to find her wand.

"If I were the wand of a very injured witch- where would I hide?" said witch wondered.

For a terrible second, she thought her wand fell out yesterday while she was running. But then she remembered somehow Apparating to…well- wherever _this_ is.

So, the question remained- where is her wand? What if someone took it and left her here to fend for herself? What if some animal took it away? What if it broke? So many horrible scenarios played in her head that she almost failed to notice the stick like indent in the snow.

In the middle of the clearing.

"God has a sick sense of humor. How exactly am I supposed to get there?"

But, Hermione Granger being Hermione Granger sucked it up and took a step toward her wand.

And she fell.

"So…this is how you want to play? Be my guest. I'll drag myself there if necessary!" she yelled, forgetting her current predicament.

And true to her word, she dragged herself through the snow toward her wand.

But the second she touched the smooth wood she heard a cackle behind her. The frightened girl whipped her head back, only to find no one. The cackle was heard in front of her now. Again no one.

Suddenly, the whole forest was filled with laughter. Maniacal, crazed, blood thirsty laughter.

Just as she thought she was going to go crazy a swarm of black-hooded figures stood in front of her.

"Hello Mudblood. Fancy seeing you here." hissed the deranged voice of Bellatrix Lestrange.

The only think Hermione could think was "_Shit_".


	3. Draco's Dilemma

**Draco's Dilemma**

**A/N: According to Wikipedia a dilemma is "a problem offering at least two possibilities, neither of which is practically acceptable". Keep this in mind while reading this chapter! :D Thanks to djsrocks and ViveleDevochka for the reviews! And a recommendation: listen to "Listen to the Rain" by Evanescence while reading this!**

**Disclaimer: *in Martin Luther King voice* I had a dream that one day I shall own all Harry Potter things! MWHAHAHA! *cough, cough, cough* For now, I guess I'll only satisfy my need using Fan Fiction.**

Draco Malfoy had a dilemma. A very big dilemma. Not one of those "if I go with the dirty green shirt I'll match my pants but if I go with the red shirt I'll be at least clean" dilemma. Oh no. He had one of the "if I follow my heart I'll probably die but at least do what's right but if I follow orders I'll be safe and go against everything I secretly believe in" dilemmas.

He seemed to have a lot of those lately.

Flipping over on his back so he was facing the ceiling, he couldn't help but think what would happen if for once he followed his heart. It was really quite surprising how fear of two men-Voldemort and his Father could make him become such an emotionless thing. Fear was such a strange yet powerful thing.

When Draco Malfoy imagined fear, he thought of a lot of things. Blood, bodies, red and green lights. He thought of the first time he saw death. He was only six, and yet his father killed without mercy in front of him. There were a lot of firsts for him that year. His first broom, first adult tooth, but that one beat them all. And he was only six.

Realizing sleeping was a lost cause; Draco stood up, leaving his warm and comfortable bed and looked out of his window. The moon overlooking the lush, green forest was partially covered with a dark, menacing cloud. He could tell that rain was bound to come any second.

And sure enough, rain started pounding. There were crackles and rumbles of thunder along with flashes of lightning. At first the lightning was just a little spark in the clouds, then it grew and started branching out. It was beautiful and dangerous. Breathtaking and lethal. Magnificent and deadly.

Just like life.

He sometimes wondered what he was. Was he a raindrop- one of many just following the rest, getting closer to splatting every second? Or was he lightning- just there for one second and gone the next? Maybe he was thunder- always there, heard by most yet seen by none.

He liked to think he was thunder.

Not causing any real harm but making his point all the same. Hiding behind those more willing and powerful yet always there. Not really given thought to the nevertheless essential to the storm.

Yes, Draco Malfoy was thunder.

The boy traced his hand on the pane his fingers following a little rain droplet down the window.

For some strange, unfathomable reason, he found the raindrops splattering depressing. Maybe it was because of all his thoughts lately or his angsty behavior but for the first time in Draco's teenage life, he allowed just a few teardrops to fall down his pale face.

"Are we all destined to be like this? Isn't there something more in life? Something bigger and better?" he thought miserably- surprising even himself with his deeper poetic self. (**A/N: I always thought Draco to be a very deep poetic person inside. :P**)

Just then, watching the same drop his finger was unconsciously tracing splat, Draco Malfoy made a decision. It may not be the best decision- but not the worst one either.

"Screw my 'dilemma'," he thought, "I'm going out."


End file.
